


What to expect when you are expecting

by Roterwolkenvogel



Series: Uno Dos Tres [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ensemble Cast, Faraday accidentially acquired a kid, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Vasquez is just in for the ride, and the author is naming the stories after parenting books, their friends try to be supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roterwolkenvogel/pseuds/Roterwolkenvogel
Summary: Alejandro Vasquez is standing in the vast hall of the airport, a few feet away from a carrier with a heavy duty crate that rattles and growls from time to time.Everyone around him is giving them a wide berth and he can't blame them. He too would like to just abandon this veritable box of Pandora but he has a promise to uphold.





	What to expect when you are expecting

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I had to tempt the muse right? Guess this is part of a series now, no clue if there’ll be more (again, the muse – I usually do not write nearly that much) but we’ll see where this takes us. Just expect an unholy amount of fluff cause I can either write that (and humour) or go off the deep end with the drama and I want to save myself that issue for when I decide to write the story how the two idiots met in this verse.
> 
> Thank you all for liking the first instalment (and Fionola!), I’m off to finishing that other Mag7 WIP I have lying around (this fandom, I swear).

Alejandro Vasquez is standing in the vast hall of the airport, a few feet away from a carrier with a heavy duty crate that rattles and growls from time to time.

 

Everyone around him is giving them a wide berth and he can't blame them. He too would like to just abandon this veritable box of Pandora but he has a promise to uphold.

 

In the distance, he can see the figures of Goodnight and Joshua appearing, a smaller one firmly in their middle. He doesn't know what he expected, Joshua being surprisingly withholding with the details, but it definitely hasn't been the girl in between his lover and one of their best friends.

 

She's at the lanky teenager stage where everything seems too big and her skin is nearly the colour of his own instead of Joshua's pale complexion.

 

She foregoes any introduction, breezing past him towards the crate and the growling becomes high pitched yowling that sounds as if someone harnessed the devil himself and forced him into a box.

 

Even Goodnight blanches at the noise.

 

“Why's he in there?“, she turns towards them accusingly. “Because this is a very busy airport and the last thing we need is a frightened dog taking off, never to be found again“, he says reasonably and she grumbles but at least stops fiddling with the crate's locks, instead choosing to murmur soft endearments through the small openings.

 

Joshua takes her distraction to briefly let his head fall onto his shoulder, his own shaking barely noticeably. Goodnight claps him on the back and says: “Good luck with that.“

 

It sounds surreptitiously like a threat.

 

|||

 

Sam had kindly provided them with a driver, so a child-faced agent is drving them home, Goodnight having declined to join them.

 

Belatedly, Joshua realises that he hasn't introduced them, so he points at Vasquez and says: “Nola, that's Alejandro Vasquez, my boyfriend“ and gesturing towards the girl he adds: “Ale, that's Nola. And the beast in the trunk is called Jack.“

 

Vasquez gives Nola his best winning smile and extends his hand: “Nice to meet you“, he says.

 

Nola grips his hand and for all her handshake is sure and tight, she fails to meet his eyes when she mumbles: “Likewise“

 

|||

 

He is glad he hasn't specified the size of the dog when he had asked their landlady for permission to have one in their home.

 

He doubts that an accurate description of Jack would have endeared her to the idea as much as his spiel of orphaned girl and her best friend had.

 

Jack is huge, and that's the nicest thing that can be said about him. Out of the crate at their flat, he's all over Nola, slobbering and yipping and Joshua watches the proceedings with mute horror.

 

“ _Guero_ “, Vasquez says and when that failst to get the other man's attention, he repeats softer: “ _Guerito_ “

 

Joshua looks at him, as do Nola and Jack. Under their shared scrutinizing gaze he falters and just lamely adds: “We need to get dog food.“

 

Their usual post-mission routine of fucking over the next available surface and greasy fast food already upended by the presence of child and dog, they find themselves out on the streets soon thereafter to find the nearest pet shop.

 

“Why's he named Jack?“, Vasquez asks Nola in an attempt at conversation, the girl surprisingly shy for a Faraday.

 

“After his dog“, she answers and points at Faraday.

 

“You have a dog, _guero_?“

 

Joshua's face scrunches up and he drags a palm over his face: “Had. Won him in a card game. And he was a Chihuahua! Not- this.“ 

He waves to where Jack is straining against his leash in his attempt to take in all the new and exciting sights of the city.

 

“Mom liked him“, Nola says and that ends this particular conversation as soon as it had begun.

 

|||

 

They still order fast food for dinner, neither him nor Joshua composed enough to cook.

 

Afterwards, they lay curled around in their shared bed, Nola safely ensconced in the guestroom at the other end of the hallway.

 

“This was a terrible idea“, Joshua whispers in the shared space between them and he sounds small and panicked, like he hasn't sounded since Rose Creek.

 

“It's been barely a week, _querido_ “, he tries to hush him, stroking his palm up and down the other's spine. “She has just lost her mother, give her time. _El tiempo cura todas las heridas_.“

 

“Still don't know what you're saying, when you go all Mexican on me“, Joshua says in a weak attempt at their usual shared joke.

 

“ _Cuento con ello_ “, he replies and captures his mouth in a kiss. It's sweet and soft and will lead to nothing but it feels awkward enough with a child so close.

 

|||

 

This night, when he goes to the bathroom to piss, he can hear soft whimpers from behind the closed guestroom door.

 

He stops, stalls, ponders, before he backtracks and knocks. The whimpers cut off abruptly and for a brief moment, on every side of the door, they hold their breaths.

 

Then he carefully inches the door open, peering in. He can make out the eerie glow of Jack's eyes in the dark and he whispers: “Can I come in?“

 

More silence, then Nola softly says “Yes“ and he carefully makes his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge where he's far enough away from Jack. 

 

It's been years since he has had any longer contact with children, so he draws from his experience with his younger sisters, when they were sad and miserable and hopes that he won't end up ruining it for Joshua on their first night home.

 

“Homesick?“, it's a question that's innocent enough if she doesn't want to talk about it. 

 

Nola exhales, inhales and when she speaks, her voice is husky?: “Yes.“

 

She seems not inclined to elaborate further, so it falls back to him to keep tue conversation going and he desperately wishes Joshua was awake too.

 

“If you want, we can sit in the living room together and watch TV and drink cocoa. My abuela used to do that with me when I visited her and got homesick.“

 

This time, he anticipates the silence, rides it out until- “Let's“, Nola says.

 

|||

 

Somewhere around 5:00 am, Jack's hindlegs pillowed on his lap and Nola buried under blankets, she says: “Does Joshua know what _'guero'_ means?“

 

It startles him enough to reply back “Do you?“

 

“ _Estoy aprendiendo español en la escuela_ ”“

 

Her accent is nearly flawless which is a feat, considering Joshua’s tendency to mangle his pronunciation until he can barely make out what he means, even with the man’s limited vocabulary.

 

|||

 

He must have dozed off somewhere after that, for he tumbles off the rest of the way off the couch like he threatened to do for the better part of an hour when Joshua comes in yelling

 

“Vas! Vas! Nola is gone, I was in her room and- aw hell”

 

From the floor, Vasquez shoots the man a reproachful glare. On their couch, Nola is a balled up heap of blankets, Jack nearly melted into her sides that barely makes a move.

 

A look at the clock reveals that it’s barely past ten, which makes Joshua’s appearance all the more unusual.

 

“Breakfast?”, the Nola-shaped lump mumbles sleepily and Joshua jumps on that like a lifeline.

 

“Sure”, he says and before Vasquez can stave off the inevitable he offers: “We’ve got five different flavours of Pop Tarts or you can have one of Ale’s smoothies. They are green.”

 

Making a gagging noise, Nola crawls out from her blanket fort, pushing Jack aside: “I take the Pop Tarts, thanks. Do you have strawberry?”

 

And oh, Vasquez is not relishing in having another person hell-bent on an early grave via junk food – it’s been a work in progress on Joshua for years and he still barely can’t get the man to eat his share of greens without deep-frying the lot of them.

 

Mumbling to himself, he gets up from the floor again and over to the kitchen, where Joshua and his progeny are eyeing the toaster like a pair of hungry wolves. It’s endearing in a way.

 

Fetching his ingredients for the fridge and having the blender on full volume makes him miss the question Nola posed that has Joshua say his name like a call for help.

 

“What was that?”, he asks as he turns off the blender and gets a panicked stare from Joshua and an unimpressed eye-roll from Nola. “I asked why you are still here and not at work. It’s past ten.”

 

This stops him short. I had assumed that Joshua had filled the child in with the most important key date on their life, but it seems his partner has been a bit more off the track than usual.

Joshua is giving him the begging puppy eyes while he mulls over possible answers until Nola pipes up again: “It’s nothing I haven’t heard off yet, I’m sure. Mom was an escort.”

 

And that makes Joshua cough into his hands, having spent good chunks of the Rose Creek operation in McCann’s lap, pretending at being exactly that.

 

“No escort”, Vasquez says to her: “I work for the government and your father is self-employed.”

 

“But what does he do?”, she prods, gracefully accepting a plate of Pop Tarts, cramming one into her mouth.

 

“Online poker, gambling”, Joshua brings forward and ducks his head when Nola turns to him.

 

“So still the same”, she says philosophically, puts her plate on the kitchen counter and gets to feed Jack.

 

“That went well, right Vas?”, Joshua says and he sounds desperate enough that Vasquez can’t help to say “ _Suficientemente bueno, guero_.”

 

|||

 

Sam had offered him to stay at home for the next few days but after the stilted breakfast conversation he decides that some one-on-one-time between Faraday and Nola might be more beneficial than him lingering around so he leaves them to their devices, even if Joshua seems close enough to beg him to stay.

 

He meets Red in the escalator to his floor and the other man gives him a long, hard look, before extending a hand, still not saying a word.

 

“ _Qué_?”, he asks confused and gets a frown for his troubles, but Red at least deigns to answer.

 

“Goody says the girl looks like Josh’s and your offspring would, if you were a chick and he less of a chicken. I wanna see picture proof.”

 

Still hung up on the description of Nola, he fails to respond hin what Red deems as timely manner and soon finds himself divested of his phone, the other thumbing through with an annoyed expression.

 

“I don’t have a picture of her, _cabrón_ ”, he growls.

 

“I can see that. I can also see more of Josh than I ever wanted to see”, mocks Red and gives the phone back with minimal fuss, snickering at Vasquez’ ears heating.

 

“ _Tu propia culpa_ ”, Vasquez grumbles and gets out of the escalator, Red hot on his heels. “Isn’t your office on another floor?”, he asks suspiciously and gets a nod and a sly grin in response. It never bodes well when Red is in a good mood, so Vasquez is loathe to push his office door open, too aware of past pranks played by a suprisingly mean Red and his accomplice Teddy.

 

His office is pink. That’s the first thing that registers – someone has taken great care in covering every avaiable surface and walls with pink, which, at least, he notes with no little regret, doesn’t seem to be post-its. From experience, those are a pain to remove.

 

There’s even a banner taped to the left wall, glittering gold letters proclaiming “It’s a girl!” and on the desk underneath, where he usually has his folders spread out, there are honest to god cupcakes. With pink frosting.

 

“I hate you all”, he says to no one in particular and gets to freeing his computer from the avalanche of pink paper thrown over it.

 

“Jack got your burner phone to analyze the pics you took for the mission and found Josh’s text. He thought it was cute”, Red offers by way of explanation and ambles over to grab a cupcake. “Emma had a field day with it.”

 

“What would you have done if I hadn’t come in today?”, he asks curiously as the computer boots up.

 

“Eathen the cupcakes ourselves, leave the decoration”, which is as good an explanation as any.

 

|||

 

Because his friends are a-grade trolls, he spends the day getting flooded by emails and calls congratulating him – there seems to be a slew of misconceptions bred by the grapevine so he just starts to say “thank you” if anyone calls and filters his mails to make everything that includes the words “congratulation” and “girl” go directly to the spam folder.

 

The rest of the trolls come in at varying times, Jack at least having the decency to look contrite, especially when Leni Frankel from reception excitedly gushes over the joys of fatherhood and babies before he can get a word in otherwise.

 

At four in the afternoon he is ready to consider murder, so he decides to take on Sam on his offer and makes to sneak out of the building – right into Emma, Sam and Goodnight posted in front of his office door, heads bend together over an object in their middle.

 

“ _He tenido suficiente_ ”, he groans tiredly but it seems his friends are determinded to carry on with their idea.

 

Goodnight grins at him and presents a huge box with the printed letters ‘Chez Billy’s’ to him with a flourish: “Billy’s sorry he can’t be here today but he wanted to make you something too!” and Vasquez just knows that we will find one of Billy’s famous and hand-crafted baby shower cakes in the box.

 

Without a further word, he snatches the box out of Goody’s hands and marches on to the sounds of the slightly hysterical laughter of his so-called friends.

 

|||

 

At home, he finds a multitude of takeout containers strewn over the kitchen isle and Joshua and Nola yelling at each other over a game of Mario Kart.

 

Steeling himself for the inevitable, he makes his way over to them, cake held in front of him like a peace offering. Jack eyes him with a glint in his eyes that all too clearly says that he’d not hesitate to mug him for a piece of it.

 

“Ooooh, cake!”, Nola crows excitedly and pauses the game, throwing the controller somewhere into the blankets and pillows someone has dragged out on the couch.

 

Joshua, looking slightly frazzled, asks: “Why do you have one of Billy’s cakes?”

 

“That’s a long story, _guero_ ”, he sighs: “Take a piece first.”


End file.
